


Completing the Cycle

by Cyn



Category: Tawny Man Trilogy - Hobb
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 00:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyn/pseuds/Cyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I got the beginning from something I started to write for Em, but never finished, so this is dedicated to her. And it's not that good, I so haven't captured The Fool's speech patterns or word usage, and it's probably out of character. And I used the same challenge twice in a row. But I'm happy to have finally gotten around to writing Fitz and the Fool.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Completing the Cycle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emothy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emothy/gifts).



> I got the beginning from something I started to write for Em, but never finished, so this is dedicated to her. And it's not that good, I so haven't captured The Fool's speech patterns or word usage, and it's probably out of character. And I used the same challenge twice in a row. But I'm happy to have finally gotten around to writing Fitz and the Fool.

Sometimes, when The Fool dreams, he dreams about a Fitz-who-is-not-Fitz, who looks nothing like Fitz and sounds even less like Fitz, but who he knows is Fitz. There is no denying the power in him, the feel of Catalyst, the essence that is simply _Fitz_, an essence he could spot from miles away, in his sleep, when still in the Six Duchies, an essence he could never forget. It haunts him even later, when he is as far from the Six Duchies as possible, and probably long forgotten by the country. After all, he had been nothing but a simple fool then, jester to a king long dead. The ones who would remember him were long dead, buried.   
  
But not Fitz. The Fool would know when Fitz died, because Fitz is his Catalyst and he is the Prophet and they are bound together in ways neither of them can imagine, even without the Skill-thread between them. Fitz lives, The Fool knows, in a world apart from the one he had once lived, in a world they had once seen together, placing his soul into stone, like Verity  
once had. And The Fool's heart beats a rhythm, in his waking moments and in his sleep, until it is all he knows: it's all he hears, in silence and in the words of others; it is what he tastes when he eats and drinks; it is what he breathes.

_He wants to see me_; it beats in his chest and his blood and before long, The Fool knows he has to revisit the country he left so long ago.

\---

The Fool avoids The Six Duchies as much as he can; it is too painful to go back there, after so long; he doesn't wish to see the changes that he knows he helped bring about, even if change is something he has always looked forward to.

Some changes hurt too much; and whatever else he is, he is still human enough to feel.

He goes through Bingtown instead, taking the Rain River up to the Rain Wilds and into the mountains, eventually finding familiar paths that had not changed as much as the rest of the world, as much as he had since the last time he was there, as much as he knew Fitz had.

He passes the valleys of stone animals, and knows he grows closer; his blood has stopped beating in time to the words his heart whispers. He passes Girl on a Dragon, but doesn't stop, even though something whispers in the back of his mind. But The Fool knows he can't stop, not for anything, especially not for her; she would take even more of him then she already has, and he is saving that.

As he nears the quarry where Fitz works, alone and silent, pouring memories into stone, he knows why he is there.

 

\---

Fitz has changed; but that is what The Fool expected, for Fitz is human, even if he lived longer than he should have. And he is old - old and gaunt and wizened, from age and from working so hard. But then Fitz smiles at him and The Fool can see the boy he knew and loved so long ago in his eyes and smile.

"I've been waiting for you," Fitz says. "I've already put in most of my memories of Nighteyes and Molly and my family, but I didn't want to forget you yet."

The Fool's breath catches in his throat and he can't speak, but smiles instead, and nods, and looks at the dragon Fitz was working on. It is magnificent, a true dragon unlike so many of the animals in the valley, and he can see the sheen of green and red on the scales, and takes immense pride in knowing that Fitz had done it all, because his friend has worked hard and it shows.

"You've changed," Ftiz murmurs to him, as he is examining the dragon. "You're darker than I remembered."

The Fool smiles and says nothing, again. He knows it is true; the changes in the world that he helped bring about have changed him as well, but he is not much darker than when he left Fitz for the last time; he can only change when directly influencing the world and he could not do that while his Catalyst lived worlds away from him.

"I may have changed, but not as much as you," The Fool tells him, moving over to the dragon. He had carried very little with him, for he would not need it on the return trip: there would be no return trip; but he sets his bag down as if it weighed a dozen pounds and carefully examines the dragon from all sides, each step freeing his soul from something he didn't know had bound it.

"I've gotten old," Fitz says. "But that's why I'm here."

"Old dreams of protecting your country." The Fool looks wryly at him. "You still dedicate yourself to the country you didn't wish to help, so long ago."

"Only because in doing this, I can help the world. That is why you are here as well."

The Fool laughs. "It seems you've stolen my tongue from me, FitzChivalry. And that you still know me as best as someone can."

Fitz says nothing, this time, but averts his gaze. The air weighs more, suddenly, but it is not a heavy pressure; and there is still a hint of excitement and happiness about it.

 

\----

Fitz's arms are silver, as Verity's were so long ago, and The Fool can see much about this project that resembles the old. But there is not the sense of urgency, there is not the feeling of hope lost.

Rather, as the days go on and the dragon nears completetion, there is a sense of something that the Fool can't identify, but he knows it is not _sad_. He spends the days singing laments, until Fitz tells him to stop his warbling, and he only laughs, because Fitz never really means it.

\---

"It's time," The Fool says, as Fitz stops working one afternoon. "There's nothing more we need to do."

Fitz looks at him then, for the first time since they awoke that morning, as if he'd known that it was going to be the last day.

"This'll be a better good-bye than our last," Fitz whispers, and stands, lacing his hands on the dragon without preamble. The feeling presses down on them, tangible in the air. There is good-bye written in the wind, but something newer, something fresher as well: this is the end and the beginning and everything else in between.

"But Fitz, this isn't good-bye," The Fool tells him, with a silent laugh, and moves to stand next to Fitz, placing his hands over Fitz's, instead of on the dragons. "It's just a break in our cycle."  



End file.
